


The Bride of Dracula Date

by rotrude



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Blood, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:03:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotrude/pseuds/rotrude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for written for the September Coffee Shop Theme of the Month at merlin_writers, using prompts 15 and 65. Merlin and Arthur bump into each other in a coffee shop. The situation has potential until....</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bride of Dracula Date

**Author's Note:**

> Kindly beta'd by tu_es_mi_amour and blissbubbles; thank you so much!

With a steaming cup in his hands Merlin slowly walks to the table he sighted before approaching the counter. (At around brunch time a free table is as rare as a stylish mullet.) On his way over, Merlin concentrates so hard on not spilling his beverage that his tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth.

When he looks up from the sloshing contents of his cup, he meets a pair of twinkling, amused blue eyes. They belong to a man who's as gorgeous as that intent gaze of his promises. He's blonde in that Robert Redford way Merlin loves, has a strong jawline, an aristocratic nose, and is buff enough – at least judging by the way he fills that cotton shirt of his – to please Merlin without overdoing it.

Buoyed by that gaze and the promise of coffee, Merlin smiles all the way to his corner table and selects a chair from which his view of Blondie isn't impeded. Moving aside an abandoned copy of Metro, open as it happens on an article recounting the latest news on Kate Middleton, Merlin sets his coffee and paraphernalia on the sugar-spattered table. Once he's comfortably positioned he looks up in the direction of Blondie.

Blondie has got a copy of the sturdy, serious Telegraph open, but he's most certainly not looking at it, though he turns a page the moment he meets Merlin's eyes. His eyebrows quirk in a way Merlin deems a cross between the diverted and the suggestive.

Merlin's involuntary smile widens; he shakes his head. He picks up the discarded tabloid and fakes great interest in the Duchess of Cambridge's attire, (he must be the only one on the planet not to give a fuck, given the squealing interest rags display on the subject).

From where he's sitting Merlin can hear Blondie's haughty huff. 

Merlin wets the pad of a finger and turns the page, sipping as he goes.

Blondie waggles his eyebrow, then sobers, though his mouth is quirked in a line that approximates a smile or at the very least an inviting – lascivious, Merlin wants to believe – little grin.

With pretend carelessness, Merlin turns around the plastic spoon given to him with his coffee. He occasionally flicks a glance at Blondie, but Blondie feigns absorption first in his paper, then in his ipad. Merlin would almost believe he has no eyes but for his reading and his gadgets if Blondie hadn't betrayed his interest in Merlin by way of quick, voyeuristic glances.

At the thought, Merlin feels pretty elated. Blondie is hot, after all. It's when his mood is at its highest and his fantasies have veered towards the X-rated that his mobile sounds a short array of notes warning him of a new text in his in-box. With a swipe of his thumb Merlin opens the message, which reads: _'What you up to?'_

It's from Gwaine, whom Merlin admittedly left in the lurch at the office, struggling under a pile of project submissions, and it sounds pretty amicable, considering.

_'Having coffee. Getting eyefucked. Eyefucking.' _Merlin responds, because this is Gwaine, and Gwaine isn't the type to appreciate the euphemistic approach.__

___'Atta boy,'_ is the text that comes back. _'Go get yourself a man. Might even forgive you my current situation.'__ _

__Fingers itching to reply, Merlin smiles fondly. He looks Blondie’s way again, searching for inspiration, only to find that Blondie has lost his smile and is now scowling. Well, not exactly. He's scowling while pouting. In short his facial muscles are all a-twist._ _

__Merlin ascribes his pout to Merlin's momentary lack of attention towards him. He shakes his head, momentarily diverted by the supposition. He pushes his mobile aside; so far away it almost falls off the table. Blondie brightens again._ _

__Merlin lifts his coffee cup and toasts Blondie the way he would if he was hoisting a tankard of beer. Blondie responds by picking up his own Styrofoam and toasting back like a king at the high table._ _

__Merlin almost sputters his coffee out and snorts so hard it goes through his nostrils. Merlin's dabbing at his mouth when Blondie sinks in the chair opposite his._ _

__"Hi," Blondie says, extending his hand, "I'm Arthur."_ _

__Merlin shakes the hand offered him. It's warm but dry, a bit calloused in places, soft in others, a hand whose touch elsewhere Merlin wouldn't mind in the least. "Merlin," Merlin says, not letting go of Arthur's hand till the very last moment, aware that it would be awkward if it weren't for Arthur exchanging squeeze for squeeze and pressure for pressure._ _

__"So, Merlin, do you come here often?" Arthur asks, not particularly originally._ _

__"Fairly so," Merlin says, gesturing at the street behind. "I work close by."_ _

__"Good," Arthur says, his voice warm and curling around Merlin's insides, making them go all gooey. "This means I'll have to come here often."_ _

__Since it always pays to be sure where these things are concerned – Merlin has a history full of embarrassing precedents where he took affable behaviour for flirting when it wasn't – he asks, "Why?"_ _

__With a sexy grin on his face Arthur dips his head and says, "To see you, obviously."_ _

__"Bold," Merlin says, in a tone full of the confidence Arthur's words have lent him. "But I'll top you." He should be blushing at his own double entendre but instead he just ploughs on, "What are you waiting for? I'm here; you're here. My coffee cup is empty."_ _

__Merlin's bold play must have worked on Arthur, because his eyes brighten and he says, "Really?" in a rather squeaky tone and then again more suavely, "Sure, I’ll buy you whatever you want."_ _

__Merlin bursts out laughing, going a bit red in the face. "You should really qualify that."_ _

__"Should I?" asks Arthur, "Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should be offering you the world."_ _

__Merlin counts himself very smooth and man about town(ish) when he manages to pull off a blasé, “Another one of these will do perfectly fine."_ _

__Arthur makes sure of the nature of Merlin's drink, a rather complicated mixture of Colombian coffee, soy milk, cane sugar and a sprinkling of cinnamon. Then he goes to the counter to order a second of the same._ _

__While Arthur engages the barista and then the woman at the till, Merlin internally goes, “Yes!” His ego does cartwheels at the notion that a perfectly gorgeous, outrageously sexy man was not only flirting with him a minute ago but is also willing to turn this flirting lark into something else. Is this turning into an impromptu date? Maybe he'll even get laid._ _

__Even though Merlin is feeling all triumphant inside, he straightens and sobers when Arthur re-joins him. It wouldn't do to let Arthur see how excited he is at the prospect of maybe possibly scoring._ _

__“Here,” he says, handing Merlin his coffee concoction, their fingers brushing so that a frisson runs along Merlin's spine. “I told the barista it had to be perfect so that I could make a good impression on you.”_ _

__Merlin blushes. Nobody's ever said something so blatantly, unrepentantly flirty to him before. Merlin's wits desert him. “Ah, thank you, I... appreciate... good coffee.” I appreciate good coffee? I appreciate good coffee? He must brain dead. It’s certifiably in a vegetative state. Christ._ _

__Propping his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand, Arthur watches him intently. “I'm glad that you do or I'd never have met you.”_ _

__Merlin's ears become as hot as the bottom of an iron. “Thank God for Abu al-Shadhil then.”_ _

__When he arches his eyebrows the sparse wrinkles on Arthur's forehead become wavy lines. “Abu who?”_ _

__“A Sheik who supposedly discovered coffee?” Merlin says, cursing his penchant for voracious reading. Then speaking quickly and hoping a quick reference will bury the subject, he adds, “Back in the middle ages. Or so legend has it.” And then something goes wrong and Merlin natters forth, “Though I prefer the version of the story that has his servant actually doing the discovering, it's more democratic.”_ _

__Merlin can see that Arthur's still lost at sea and it's not as if Merlin didn't send him there. He might just have pushed his metaphorical canoe off shore so hard Arthur is drifting in deep, deep waters. “I meant that I prefer the version that's not about the high and mighty, but the sneaky clever servant...” Merlin stirs his coffee with his plastic spoon. “Never mind.” Merlin flips his hand about. “It doesn't matter.”_ _

__“I think it does,” Arthur says, tilting his head in his study of Merlin. “You seem to be a bit unusual.”_ _

__Oh crap, that's a nice word for weird. Merlin must have freaked Arthur out. Why can't he ever be smooth with a bloke he likes, why? To act as though he just didn't commit a (almost) dating faux pas, he goes for a sip of bracing coffee._ _

__The pain is sharp and immediate. One moment he's appreciating the aroma of the coffee brew, and the next his mouth tastes like metal, tangy and sweet. His hand going to his mouth Merlin slams the cup down. When he wipes it across it, it comes away stained red._ _

__At sight of the blood, Arthur flails for napkins but only finds one and one that is stained with coffee rings. Merlin isn't in a position to be bothered by that; beggars can't be choosers and all that claptrap. As he spits more and more blood, he dabs the napkin at his mouth._ _

__“Tilt your head back!” Arthur says, eyes large, complexion paling by degrees so that Arthur looks less and less like a golden demi god and more and more like Casper the friendly ghost._ _

__While Arthur goes to retrieve more paper napkins at the stand, Merlin does as Arthur suggested, his heart sinking. This is the requiescat in pace swan song to his almost date._ _

__When Arthur comes back, Merlin's still spewing blood though the flow has diminished. He must be a sight to see with trickles of it coming down his chin and neck, and blood stains all over his cuffs and possibly collar._ _

__“Fuck,” Arthur says, pressing a mound of napkins against Merlin's neck as though Merlin's bleeding out. “Holy shit.”_ _

__Merlin sighs, his heart plummeting to his boots. “It'sh just a cut,” he says with less than perfect diction. “I know I look like the bridshes of Dracula, but it'sh only a cut.” Merlin picks up the object that did the deed, aka the spoon. “Ish worshe than a blade.”_ _

__“Oh,” Arthur says, pressing his hand against his heart. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, I thought.”_ _

__“That this was a true life vershion of La Traviata?”_ _

__Arthur reddens deeply. “No, I--” Still fussing with the napkins covering Merlin's neck like a bib he seems at a loss for words. “I thought.” He sinks back into his chair, his shoulders rounding in a slump. “That something was the matter with you.”_ _

__“Noshing is,” Merlin says, and fuck it, with those sibilants he can't pull serious off. He starts again. “But I undershtand if you're a bit repelled.” Who wouldn't be? He's gushing out gallons of blood and looks like an extra in Twilight. Unfortunately Merlin has a knack for turning people off doing unsexy stupid things. “Or if you want to, you know,” he eyes the exit helpfully._ _

__“Repelled?” Arthur asks in a high pitch. “What no! I--” Arthur squeezes his sinuses. “Look, at risk of sounding forward, I was rather hoping to see you again--”_ _

__Never mind the fact that this way the blood is trickling down more effectively and staining his shirt, Merlin sits up. “Really?”_ _

__Arthur gives him an ace of a smile. “Really, I had this dastardly plan involving getting possession of your phone and putting my number in.”_ _

__“Very dashssstardly.” Merlin spits some blood into one of his many napkins, if he hasn't put off Arthur so far, maybe he has a window of opportunity. “And would you have left all the rest to chance?”_ _

__“I'd have maybe added a note about how essential it was for you to ring me up,” Arthur says, his shoulders levelling with his ears._ _

__“Mmm,” Merlin says, feeling all warm and glowing all over again, fuck the blood loss. “I approve of your dastardly plan.”_ _

__Arthur leans closer, sliding both elbows along the tables surface. “Do you?” he asks. “I was thinking about implementing it.”_ _

__Merlin slides his mobile across to Arthur. “Please do.”_ _

__When Arthur's eyes land on the screen, he snorts like a pig. “Really, Merlin,” he says. “Eyefucking?”_ _

__Merlin's eyes must be as wide as saucepans. “Fuck,” he says. “I'm such a loser, aren't I?”_ _

__Arthur shakes his head, giggling. “Here,” he says, tapping against the screen surface of his mobile before passing Merlin's phone back to him. “I slotted myself in for Friday night. It seemed engagement free.”_ _

__Having a look at the screen, Merlin sees that Arthur has indeed added an appointment on his diary. The note that goes with it says, _'Have stellar sex with Arthur.'_ Merlin looks away, his shoulders shaking with a merriment he can't control. “I may be a sad loser with an empty weekend schedule but Christ you have a god complex.”_ _

__“We make the perfect pair then,” says Arthur smoothly, just a bit of an eyebrow wiggle to mar the slick enchanter effect._ _

__“I hope you live up to expectations,” Merlin says, refusing to stand down and letting Arthur be the charming tombeur de... boys all alone._ _

__As Arthur effortlessly eases out of his chair with the grace of a panther or someone who's studied Daniel Craig's moves with a keen eye to pull off his best Bond impersonation, Arthur says, “Be there... Friday, eight sharp.”_ _

__It's a nice one liner, Merlin finds, a memorable parting shot. If they ever make it to being a couple it'd probably go into the annals of their history together, a story to be told to their friends again and again. More’s the pity that Merlin has to ruin it by going ahead and saying, “Oi, Arthur, mind dropping me at the A &E first?”_ _


End file.
